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The idea of losing Rose after just finding her again hurts worse than when the doctors flipped my world on its axis last year.
“There’s a bridge coming up that I know has no cameras, and the lights are shit. It’s a tight space, but we can do it,” Raphael chimes in from the back seat as he hands me my gun.
Enzo nods. “I’m familiar with the spot. Hold on to something.”
He lays down on the gas and takes several turns before the bridge looms ahead. Stopping in the middle of the dark, empty street, I climb out just as the soon-to-be dead fucker’s car comes around the corner, and I take aim. Knowing Rose is inside makes me hesitate, but only for a second. Then I squeeze the trigger because there’s no other way. I fire off two perfect shots, taking out each front tire in quick succession. The driver slams on the brakes immediately, but it does little to stop the car from spinning out of control. My heart squeezes painfully at the sight, and I pray to whatever God will listen that Rose is safely buckled inside.
The car slams into a broken light pole and comes to a sudden stop. A second later, the front doors open, and two men emerge. Enzo puts them down with no hesitation. Like I said, no witnesses tonight. We descend on the car, and I keep my gun raised as Raphael pulls open the back door.
Curled up on the leather back seat is Rose. Her hands are still bound by the handcuffs in front of her. Her dress is torn from one shoulder, nearly exposing her breasts to the night air. The bottom is bunched up around her thighs, and I catch sight of red scratches marring her pale skin there. Her makeup is smudged, her nose is bleeding, and there’s a red mark on her cheek that’s definitely going to bruise. She blinks slowly as if coming out of a daze before her eyes focus on me.
Fear suddenly grips my chest. Will she remember me? The possibility never crossed my mind, and it hurts worse than the idea of her loving someone else. But then she does something that steals my breath. She smiles, and my heart soars at the sight.
“Michael,” she whispers, and my heart fumbles at hearing my name from her mouth again.
Before I can say anything back, her eyes roll back in her head, and then she slumps against the leather seat, effectively passing out. Every inch of my body aches to reach out and gather her into my arms, but first, I have a piece of human scum to deal with.
I point my gun at the bastard crumpled on the floorboard. His hat and suit jacket are gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a very hairy and pale gut. My eyes slide to his open pants, and I almost pull the trigger right then.
“Get out,” I growl through clenched teeth. My demons pull at their chains, demanding to unleash their fury on the man who thought he could touch someone who never belonged to him. Rose is mine. She was mine from the very first moment I laid eyes on her.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” the man demands instead of doing as told.
“I said…get the fuck out,” I repeat. He won’t get a third chance.
“I’ll have your head for this,” the man spews as he finally clambers out of the car. He looks like a pig trying to roll over as he rises to his feet. In the dim light under the bridge, I study his face, and my demons purr at the three red scratches across his cheek. His neck boasts a matching set, deeper and bleeding. My girl put up a fight.
“Do you know who I am?”
I snort, like I give a damn, and repeat his question back to him. “Do you know who I am?”
“Looks like he’s from Texas, boss,” Enzo says as he examines the car’s rental paperwork. “A Mr. John Casey from Houston. An oilman.”
“You’re far from home, Mr. Casey. What brings you to Miami? And don’t tell me it was our beautiful beaches.” I grab John’s shirt and slam him against the car’s unforgiving side. Fear flashes across his face as he realizes just how much danger he’s in. His men are dead, and those responsible stand in front of him. “Or was it the auction? Tell me, Mr. Casey. Do you enjoy buying innocent women? Does it get you off? Is that sick power trip the only thing that gets your cock hard?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
I tilt my head and examine the sack of shit. “Are you lying to me, Mr. Casey? I thought we were having an honest conversation here.”
“I’m not lying, man. My girl and I—”
I bury my fist in his gut. He doubles over in a coughing fit, but we aren’t done talking. Grabbing him by his throat, I shove him back against the car. I lean closer so that John can see the demons behind the fire in my eyes. “She’s not your girl, and I don’t like being lied to, Mr. Casey.”
He struggles to breathe. “Please…man. Just let…let me go.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be happening. Because you see, you came into my city and hurt someone I care for. Now, the first grievance I could forgive, but the second? Sorry.” Terror fills John’s face as he finally understands his fate. Pleased with his reaction and officially done with him, I shove him toward Enzo. “Take care of this shit excuse for a human being, will you?”
“Gladly.” Enzo pulls the pleading man toward the back of the car.
I turn my attention to the woman responsible for consuming my every thought. It’s clear as day what the man planned to do to her, and if Enzo wasn’t already dealing with him, I’d put a bullet in his skull this very second. As furious as I am at the terrifying thought that we were almost too late, I can’t help but feel proud of how hard she fought back. Others might see a broken woman, but I see a beautiful warrior who refused to surrender.
I glance over my shoulder at Raphael. “Make sure the doctor meets us at my house immediately.”
He nods, already pulling out his phone to type the message out.
A soft pop fills the silence. One problem down. A dozen more to go.
But first, Rose.
